


Taking to Air

by Oh_Toasty



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Dragon Stiles Stilinski, Dragon!Stiles, M/M, Mates, Secrets, Sheriff Stilinski is called Andrew
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-03-05
Packaged: 2018-05-25 00:52:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6173578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oh_Toasty/pseuds/Oh_Toasty





	1. Chapter 1

"Why not!" A six year old Stiles asks tears sparkling in his eyes as he looks up to his mother. "Why can't I tell him?"

"Honey," Claudia soothes running a hand through his hair despite how awkward the position is from her hospital bed. "You can't tell Scott, because he won't believe you. Most people won't ever believe you, and the one who so will hurt you. They'll try to kill you or hand you over to someone who will."

"But mom," Stiles pouts, "Scott wouldn't do that, he loves me."

Claudia laughs, "I know baby, but he might accidentally let something slip so, please, for me promise you won't tell anyone."

"Okay Mommy," Stiles says sticking a hand out for a pinky swear, "I promise."

Stiles keeps his promise for years, not even breaking it when Scott gets bit by a werewolf and could use his help. Instead, Stiles finds other ways to help his friend and continues to play the part of innocent human. 

He even manages to maintain his charade the day his reintroduction to the supernatural leads him straight to his mate. He wasn't expecting it, to hear a mating call in the words of a known killer. 

"You must be Stiles," Peter says and Stiles himself is torn between instinct and thought. 

Eventually rational thought wins and Stiles darts away, still not using enough speed to reveal what he is. 

The next few weeks are hard, his instincts are closer to the top than normal and they beg him to go find his mate and claim him. Stiles has to put more effort into tamping his supernatural side down and into keeping up appearances. 

He can't even become to excited when Lydia agrees to go to the formal with him, all he can think about is the burning rage he felt when he prevented Peter from taking Scott's mom on a date. It might be why Lydia actually agrees to go with him, she can sense his interest has dwindled. 

It's proven when, as they step out of the jeep, Lydia asks, "What happened to your giant crush on me?"

Stiles snorts, wondering how R can possibly explain how his more animalistic side demands he mate another and replies, "I found someone else."

"Then why take me, why not go with them?" Lydia asks raising perfectly sculpted brows as she sweeps into the gym the formal is held in. 

Shaking his head, Stiles sighs, "It's complicated, but basically no matter how much I want them, I shouldn't actually have them."

Lydia allows the of versatile to come to an end, and Stiles couldn't be more grateful. It hurts to talk about his blatant rejection of his psychopathic mate, because he doesn't want to do it. But he knows better than to trust anyone with his secret, especially a manipulative killer, and that is what would happen if he pursued Peter. Instead, he has to be happy sitting around and watching others plan to kill Peter.

Then Peter appears at the formal, biting Lydia, and kidnapping him and Stiles can't help the thrill that runs through his blood, because Pete is playing a high stakes game, exactly like the one Stiles' kind loves to play. 

"Do you want to the bite," Peter asks and when Stiles tells him no, Peter snarls "You know what I heard just then? Your heart beating slightly faster overs words I don't want."

Stiles can't help his choked laughter as he watches Peter's retreating back, of course he wants. He wants his mate to be sane, he wants his mate to love him. He wants his mate. 

That night Stiles sprouts his wings and flys in a sorrowful pattern, something he hasn't done since his mother's death. The wind hits him in the face, and Stiles feels so at home in the sky. He's missed this, the freedom of the sky. He avoids his true form, knowing how strikingly similar it is to his mother's, but he still has his wings and enjoys the sky. 

"Oh Stiles," his father mutters as Stiles walks in through the back door, his wings still trailing behind him. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Stiles tells him, retracting his wings. "Stop making assumptions."

His father fixes him with a glare, "Stiles, don't lie to me. I could see your scale color, it's obvious that something is wrong."

"You're right," Stiles sniffs as he settles down in a chair across from his father and let's everything spill out. 

"So let me get this straight," Andrew replies. "You're mate is a serial killer alpha werewolf, and you don't know how to deal with it, because your friend wants to kill him?"

"Yeah," Stiles answers, feeling numb. "That's basically it."

"I don't think there's anything you can do." Andrew admits, "Is there anyway you can stay out of this? Just let Scott and Derek take care of it?"

"Probably not," Stiles mutters. "But I'll try."

"Good," Andrew mutters placing a kiss to Stiles forehead. "Now get some sleep."

Stiles doesn't manage to stay out of everything, not even a week later he finds himself launching a Molotov cocktail at Peter. A sigh of relief touches his lips when Peter catches the jar, but then Allison shoots it and Peter is on fire. There's a deep growl building in Stiles' chest but he keeps it in recalling his promise to his mother. 

Then Derek is pouncing and slicing Peter's throat and all Stiles can feel is hurt and rage. With the threat of his wings emerging, Stiles turns and he runs not bothering to stay and deal with the aftermath. He has enough wits about him to stick only with human speed until he's out of sight, and then he's launching himself into the air. 

Wings beating furiously, Stiles flys even as he returns to his true form. Only once he's sure that he's several hundred miles away, does Stiles allow himself to roar in mourning. His chest aches with emptiness, and he's instincts call for him to go back for his mates body. 

He doesn't, instead he finds comfort in the mountains where he resides in his den for an eight day mourning period. The first half of his stay is spent purely in his true form living off of his most basic instincts. The last part he stays in his human form thinking, attempting to sort through his more complex emotions. 

By the time he begins the trip home, Stiles is feeling calmer. There's still an ache in his chest one he knows will never go away (his own father still feels his own mates death and he is a human). 

Reaching Beacon Hills, Stiles heads straight for his home. He isn't surprised to find his father sitting in the kitchen already waiting when Stiles walks in. 

"Stiles," Andrew greets him, wrapping his arms around his son. "How was the mourning period?"

"Awful," Stiles admits pressing his face into his father's shoulder. "What did you tell everyone?"

"You mean about why you ran off?" Andrew questions. "Just that you hate death, seeing your mothers made it even worse and you never want to see it again. They think you came straight home, and that I sent you to your grandparents for a week."

"How did you lie to them? They can hear a lie." Stiles watches Andrew intently his eyes tracking in a way that only a predator can.

Andrew flicks his forehead gently, "Don't be dull. You know your mother left me some of her abilities, that includes the ability to lie without my heart rate changing."

"Peter could hear it when I lied to him," Stiles mutters despite how it hurts.

Andrew strokes a hand over Stiles hair, "I know, I could always tell when your mother lied and visa versa, it's a mate thing."

Stiles pulls away, "I'm going to bed. I've been in a cave all week and a mattress sounds nice right about now."

"Alright, see you tomorrow buddy." Andrew says as he watches his son retreat and wonders if Stiles will ever be the same. 

He's different for the longest time, though not everyone can tell, Stiles puts on a facade of well being. At school he acts the same as always, a lovable ball of energy, but in the afternoon he'll come home to Andrew and admit how hard the day has been. 

"I can't stand it," Stiles will admit. "They're all so happy, like nothing is bothering them. They killed my mate and they keep talking to me like nothing happened."

Other days it will be things such as, "I saw Derek and I flinched away because all I could see was him dragging his claws across Peter's throat," or "I almost shifted into my true form today, looking at Allison made me lose control."

"You'll be okay, you're strong enough to get through it," Andrew soothes, but he wonders. 

Stiles flys a lot more these days, taking to the sky like its the only place he feels whole. He's on one of these day trips when feels a pounding in his heart and a pull to the clearing outside the burnt Hale house. Stiles lands quickly retracting his wings before the woman in the clearing turns to look at him. 

A quick sniff of the air reveals that Lydia is the person on the porch as well as Derek, and Stiles feels his curiosity peak. 

"Lydia," he calls and hear her curse beneath her breath. 

"What do I do?" She asks, "He isn't a wolf, the Wolfsbane won't work."

Stiles can't hear any form of response, but Lydia turns to him and waves across the clearing. 

"Hey Stiles," Lydia says jogging over to him. Stiles snorts at the obvious attempt to keep him away from the porch.

He waits until she reaches him, before continuing his walk towards the house, "What are you doing out here Lydia?"

"Nothing," Lydia bites put no doubt having put together that she can't stop Stiles' progression. "You should leave, you can't stop it."

"Stop What?" Stiles asks until he lays eyes on an unconscious Derek with an arm draped over on Peter's corpse. "The wormwood ritual."

"You know what it is?" Lydia asks eyes lit with both caution and intrigue. 

"Yes," Stiles breaths still trying to wrap his mind around what's happening, his mates possible return. 

"Don't stop me," Lydia begs. "I need him out of my head. He needs to leave me alone."

"Stop you," Stiles asks in confusion having momentarily forgotten that their mate bond wasn't known. "I won't stop you, go ahead and finish Lydia. Quickly now, the moonlight is fading."

Lydia obeys, and with in moments Peter is fully healed and standing before them. 

"Thank you, dear." Peter tells Lydia before turning to Stiles. "I must admit, I'm surprised you didn't stop Lydia."

Stiles shrugs, "I didn't want her to suffer."

It isn't a lie, Stiles knows better, Peter will always be able to tell. Instead it's a part of a truth, he doesn't want Lydia to suffer, she's his friend. However, the truth is he mostly allowed it so he could see Peter again. 

The werewolf narrows his eyes, obviously catching that it is the whole truth, but doesn't comment on it. Instead, he kicks the unconscious Derek and begins to walk off into woods. 

"I'll be seeing you around," he calls out and Stiles can't help the joy that fills the formerly hollow section of his chest. 

Smiling, Stiles answers quietly know he can still hear, "Yes, you will."

"What was that?" Lydia questions her eyes narrowing. "I know you let it happen so he'd leave me alone, but why are you even here?"

"I was out walking," Stiles shrugs, "Then I saw you and decided to come over."

"How did you know what I was doing?" Lydia demands, "The wormwood ritual, how did you know?"

Shrugging, Stiles bites a lip, "I do a lot of research, Scott sure as hell isn't gonna."

"Maybe," Lydia hums, "But there's something else to. There's no way for you to know as much as you do from less than a year of research."

"Well, obviously there is," Stiles mutters as he ushers Lydia over to her car. "Now let's get you home."

Stiles manages to stave off his panic attack until after he drops Lydia off at home. Then he takes off into the air wondering how he's supposed to keep his promise to his mother when Lydia is already on to him.


	2. Chapter 2

Three weeks after Peter's resurrection Stiles and Lydia are closer than ever. At first, he tries to pull away her, worried that she'll discover what he is, but upon seeing how heart breakingly lonely she is, Stiles stops pulling away. 

Peter is scarce, Stiles only sees him when he's lurking around Derek. He's fine with this turn of events, for now it's enough to know that his mate is alive. After all, Stiles still needs time to think about how he'll approach the matter of Peter being a psychopathic killer, and whether or not he should tell the man what he is. 

Stiles still hasn't made a decision on what he'll do by the first time he's left alone with Peter. He's sure it wasn't on purpose, Scott and Derek were both busy going to save Erica and Boyd and thought Stiles contribute. No doubt they'd also manage to somehow forget that they were leaving him with a killer. 

"Hello," Peter grins at him. "We haven't actually had any time alone recently."

Stiles shrugs, "Probably because you've been to busy manipulating Derek."

"Yes," Peter agrees, "That's certainly a part of it. However it's given me time to think."

"About what?" Stiles asks attempting not to sound to interested as he unrolls a blueprint. 

Peter plucks the paper from his hands and stares into his eyes intently when Stiles looks up, "Your scent. You don't smell like normal humans. There's something extra."

Stiles tenses, fear making it hard to think. There are several reasons he can think of, neither he's to enthusiastic about. Either Peter can smell what he is, a feat which shouldn't be possible, or the fact that they're mates adds something to his scent. It's most likely the latter, after all Derek and Scott have never mentioned his scent having an oddity.

"Must be my Adderall," Stiles deflects as he snatches the blue print back and inspects them furiously. 

"No," Peter hums tapping his fingers against the table. "That's not it, Adderall is bitter, this smells sweet, addicting even."

"Good for you," Stiles grunts focusing on his blueprints. "Shit!"

"What," Peter asks his gaze sharpening as he smells Stiles fear permeate the air. 

Stiles drops the blueprint and calls Scott instantly, "Scott dude, you can't go in the bank!"

"Wait, what?" Scott asks. "Derek, wait a moment!"

"Shit, you haven't punched your way in yet have you?" Stiles asks. 

Scott's answer comes instantly, "Not yet, why?"

"The walls are made of Hecatolite," Peter informs them, as he sets doe he blueprint he'd been studying. "They won't have been exposed to the moonlight for months. The full moon will make them feral."

"You won't be able to handle them on your own," Stiles informs them. "Wait about ten minutes, I'll be there with some specialty Wolfsbane that will knock them right out."

"Alright," Derek snaps, "But only ten minutes."

"The strand that Lydia used?" Peter asks his breath hot against Stiles's ear. 

"Yeah," Stiles gulps, "That's it."

"Why am I not surprised you got your hands on it?" Peter laughs as he pulls away. "How do you plan to get to the bank on time though?"

"I have my jeep," Stiles says taking care not to specifically say that's how he'll get there. His true plan is just to fly there and save time.

Peter shakes his head, "Not fast enough, but you know that don't you? How are you really getting there?"

"Don't worry about it," Stiles tells Peter, it's the best he can do with out lying and even then Peter would know. 

Peter smiles, apparently satisfied that Stiles would reveal even that much, "Fine, go then."

Stiles leaves the loft as quickly as possible, and then upon making sure no one is watching takes off into the air. 

He reaches the bank in record time- seven minutes- and finds Derek and Scott easily. Brushing off their questions, Stiles gestures to the wall. 

"Alright big guy, punch your way through. Then get behind me, because in not lugging you around if you fall unconscious."

"Fine," Derek grunts, before obeying. 

As Stiles expects two enraged werewolves rush at him and drop down almost instantly when met with Wolfsbane to the face. However, unlike what he expects, it isn't Erica that's with Boyd. It's another woman entirely. 

A quick inhale and a few seconds to sort through the scents and Stiles has placed who she is- a Hale. Somehow she's related to Derek, so he steps aside and allows the older man to deal with it. 

"Cora," Derek gasps as he lays eyes on the woman. 

Seeing Scott's curious gaze, Stiles shakes his head, "Come on, let's go look for Erica."

Scott follows along obediently as They exit the vault and begin to search other places. The whole time Stiles can detect the scent of death drifting in from the nearby closet, but he can't act on it until Scott detects it. Thankfully, it doesn't take long before Scott catches the scent and leads them towards the closet. 

"Erica," Stiles sighs as sees her face. 

Scott leans down to gather her in his arms but Stiles pushes him away. 

"No, let me get her. You have to carry Boyd." 

"Are you sure?" Scott asks, "You hate death, you couldn't even stomach Peter's actually, so why are you even with this."

"I've gotten used to the idea," Stiles tells him, not even a hint of a lie. After all, dragons live for a long time and he's know for ages that he'll out live his friends.

Scott winces, as if he's blaming himself for it, even as he passes over Erica's body. Stiles cradles her close and wonders why he doesn't feel worse. Because while he's expected to outlive his friends, he'd assumed they would at least live a normal human life span. Now that he thinks over it, he's been naïve. The way they live, he'll lose more friends before their time. 

That night Stiles goes home and lays all this out for his father, Andrew simply holds Stiles close and says he wishes it weren't the case. 

Stiles's week either gets far better or far worse the next day, depending on how you look at it. When he arrives at school the next day, Lydia is there waiting for him. 

"Hey Lyds," he greets as he slides out of the jeep.

"I know what you are," She tells him not bothering to offer any pleasantries.

Tensing, Stiles snaps his head towards Lydia, "What do you mean Lydia, I'm human remember?"

Shaking her head, Lydia frowns, "You don't have to lie to me. I know about everything already, I'm a banshee remember?"

"That doesn't mean I'm not human," Stiles objects slinging his backpack over his shoulder. 

"No," Lydia agrees, "It doesn't, there are other reasons for me to think you aren't human."

"We aren't having this conversation now," Stiles hisses with narrowed eyes. 

Lydia glares at him and flips her hair over her shoulder, "Yes we are, but we don't have to have it here. Get in the jeep and we can take it somewhere else." 

Stiles hesitates, worried that if he obeys she'll take it as an admission of his Inhumanness. Then he gives up on his internal struggle and steps into the vehicle.

They don't speak for the entire trip to Stiles's house. Stiles has opted to wait until they're there. His father will be home soon, and be able diffuse the situation is anything goes wrong. 

Seated around the kitchen table, Stiles waits and Lydia thinks about her words. She can obviously sense Stiles's nerves and doesn't want to say anything to brash. 

"You're a dragon aren't you?" Lydia asks and Stiles stops breathing and panics. 

She knows, she knows what he is despite his mother's warnings not to let anyone know. Now she'll do what he's always feared, kill him or hand him off to someone who will- probably an Argent.

"Stiles," a voice barks, nails digging into his arms, "Stiles, snap out of it! Damn it Lydia, what'd you do to him!"

"Nothing," Stiles mutters as he breaks out of his thoughts. "She didn't do anything to me. Why are you here?"

Peter has the audacity to look offended, "What do you mean why am I here? Of course I'm here, I could hear your heart and smell your fear from half way across the town."

"Well, thanks," Stiles tells him standing abruptly. He doesn't want to be here with the wondrous feeling of his mate sending his fear and the woman who caused it. He wants to go fly away from here, "You should leave now."

"No," Peter purrs, "I think I'll stay until you explain how Ms. Martin here reduced you to such a fearful state."

"I asked about college," Lydia lies, "He got upset about his SAT scores."

"Lydia darling," Peter hums, "I can hear your lie."

"Fine," Stiles says and he's sure Peter can smell the fear and anger rolling off of him, "I'll tell you, fuck Lydia already knows. I've already broken my promise to my mother! I'm a dragon- Lydia guessed and I panicked. Now, I'm going flying, be gone when I get back."

They aren't gone when he returns instead they're sitting around the kitchen table with his father. Stiles seethes, he doesn't want to deal with them right now, he doesn't want to deal with his broken promise. He can't function properly, not when he feels as if he's under constant threat of betrayal. 

"Stiles," Andrew sighs as Stiles marches in his wings and tail lashing throughout air, a vibrant red. "Stiles, calm down."

"I can't," Stiles admits as he stalks upstairs, and he knows Andrew will follow him. It isn't true privacy, Peter can hear everything, but it still provides a façade that Stiles can appreciate. 

Andrew settles down on the ground besides him, "What's wrong with this? It can't hurt to have them know." 

"It does," Stiles snaps, "I broke my promise. I swore to mom I wouldn't tell anybody. Now they know, and they can betray me- pass me over to the nearest hunter!"

Downstairs he can hear Peter's angry growl and Lydia's small noise of confusion. The scent of hurt drifts up to him and Stiles whimpers because it's his mate that he's hurting. 

"We wouldn't do that," Peter whispers and Stiles has to wok hard to return his focus to his father. 

"Jesus kid," Andrew sighs running a hand over his face. "Is that what your mother told you? People aren't gonna hand you over to a hunter just because they know what you are, they care about you!" 

"Even if that's true, I broke my promise to Mom," Stiles says it slowly as if he's still puzzling out how to feel over it. 

Shaking his head, Andrew pulls him in for a hug, "It was a stupid promise, your mom made a mistake in asking for it. Now, let's go downstairs and tell them everything."

"Everything?" Stiles asks his eyebrow raising as he makes eye contact. 

Andrew nods, "Everything."

When they finally seat themselves next to the banshee and the wolf, Stiles has mostly regained control of himself. Launching into an explanation is easy- he talks about what he is not about himself. 

He tells them about dragons and expands lives spans and everything he can think of. However, he can avoid the topic his father wants him to broach is fine by him. 

"That's everything," Stiles declares as his sits back and finishes his explanation of how each dragon hoarded something different (he personally hoards knowledge).

"No, it isn't," Andrew corrects his voice stern. "Stiles, tell them."

"Why should I?" Stiles grumbles his eyes flickering over towards Peter. "He's a murderer anyway."

"I'm involved," Peter asks his eyebrows hiking up. "Well, now I'm intrigued."

Both Stilinskis opt to ignore him, Stiles not even breaking from his little speech, "Besides are you sure you want to be here for that?"

"No," The sheriff says his eyes going wide as he no doubt recalls Claudia's own mate reveal. "You're right I don't, which is why you'll fly Peter out to your den and tell him there."

"No," Stiles answers narrowing his eyes and flashing them incandescently. 

Andrew frowns, "Fine, you don't have to take him there, I know you want to protect your hoard. You will take him to the mountains though."

"Fine," Stiles grunts standing abruptly. "Come on Peter."

"Gladly," the wolf drawls, "How do you intend to get me to the mountains though? Your father said flying, but how are you supposed to take me with you?"

Stiles snorts, "You don't actually think this is my true form do you?"

"You have wings and a tale," Peter defends, "I assumed that's just what dragons really are."

"Nah," Stiles shakes his head, "I can actually take a full dragon form, you can ride that."

"Now Stiles," Peter smirks, "If you wanted me to ride you, you just had to ask."

Stiles flushes unable to stop the embarrassment and pleasure that rolls through his body as he thinks about has his mate apparently wants him. 

Rather than answer, Stiles shifts and lowers one wing for his mate to use as a ladder. Peter stands there for a moment, admiring Stiles's true form before climbing up on to his back. 

"You're gorgeous," Peter whispers and Stiles rises into the clouds feeling light hearted. 

When they land in the mountains, Stiles ushers Peter into a nearby cave. He shifts forms right as he reaches the cave's entrance and follows the wolf. 

"Now," Peter says as he sits down on the ground with his back against the cave wall. "What are you here to tell me about? Obviously it's something your father doesn't want to hear."

"It's about the smell you said I have," Stiles admits as he tries to think of the best way to tell Peter. 

"You mean that isn't because you're a dragon?" Peter wonders.

Eyes narrowed, Stiles huffs, "Really? If that was the case don't you think Derek and Scott would've noticed?"

"So it's specific to me?" Peter deduces. "Now, I am curious."

"Well, you see, dragons have mates-"

"Stiles," Peter grins lavishly, "Are you telling me that we're mates? Does that make you mine?"

Peter stands, prowling towards Stiles. The dragon stands still, not wanting to move when he wasn't exactly sure why his mate is approaching him. 

"I suppose that's acceptable,"  
Peter hums and sudden there's lips pressed against his own. 

It's hot, and burning and Stiles feels as though he's finally complete. The hole in his chest, which had been mostly filled upon Peter's return, now feels close to overflowing. 

"Good," Stiles murmurs his mouth pressed against Peter's neck as he's pressed into the ground. "You're mine too."


End file.
